


Capes and Cornflowers

by injeong



Series: Merlin Duty: A Thrilling Saga of everyone in Camelot shipping Merthur [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur sort of has no idea what he's doing, Courting Rituals, Crack, Everyone knows Merlin and Arthur are courting, Everyone ships Merthur, Feels, Fluff, Gwen gives good love advice, M/M, Merlin loves him anyway, Protective Arthur, Protective Knights (Merlin), Sort Of, The knights and the guards of camelot run the merthur fan club, seriously a lot of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injeong/pseuds/injeong
Summary: In which Arthur and Merlin do nothing to hide the fact that they are courting, and the entire castle finds out and reacts accordingly.AKA Arthur gets given the if-you-hurt-Merlin-you-will-feel-our-wrath talk by several different people, Arthur and Merlin like giving each other gifts, and the entirety of Camelot ships Merthur.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Duty: A Thrilling Saga of everyone in Camelot shipping Merthur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886344
Comments: 51
Kudos: 998
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	Capes and Cornflowers

So, maybe Arthur was courting Merlin. Just a little bit. 

And in hindsight, maybe Arthur should have tried at least a _little_ to hide that fact from the rest of his people, because honestly, they were becoming unbearable. 

His knights, especially.

Percival gently manhandled Arthur into the armoury, and positioned himself in front of the door like a giant, stone sentry. Arthur gaped wordlessly at the crowd of bulky men in chainmail armour who were sitting in a squashed crowd in the small room, staring up at him solemnly. 

" _Again_?" he said, almost hysterically. 

Gwaine grinned. "I heard from a certain someone you were courting our Merlin." 

" _Our_ Merlin?" Arthur spluttered.

Sir Aldwin nodded seriously. "We brought you here because we have some things to say to you, Sire." 

_I am a King, you do not have the authority to bring me anywhere -_

"What words?" Arthur said instead. He already had an idea of what those _words_ may be, and Lancelot's next words confirmed his guesses. 

Lancelot placed a hand on his chest. "Sire," he said nobly, "I will serve you until my dying breath and I am honour bound and completely loyal to you, but if you make Merlin cry, we will not hesitate." 

Arthur blanched. 

"If you hurt him in any way," said Leon - _Leon_ , of all people - solemnly, "I am afraid that we knights may find ourselves in a ... difficult position." 

"What's so difficult about it?" mumbled Gwaine, from where he was squashed between a sword rack and another guard. "If he hurts Merlin's feelings, just take that crossbow and shoot him with it, or something." 

"Gwaine, he's still the king, we can't just kill him," replied Leon patiently, talking as if he was explaining something simple to a small child.

Arthur was starting to feel somewhat unsafe, but he stayed where he was, watching in mild horror as his knights started squabbling amongst each other. From the door, Percival looked out of the window and absently started cracking his knuckles and flexing his muscles. The message was hardly subtle. 

The knights were still arguing. 

"- would _you_ want to serve a King who would make his lover cry? -" 

" _Lover_? Have you seen them? They're so much more than just lovers, you idiot -" 

"Either way, we might need to double the Merlin Rota just in case his Highness does something _bad_ -" 

Arthur cleared his throat loudly, and the knights fell silent, looking towards him inquisitively.

"I won't," he said awkwardly. "I wouldn't do something ... bad. And I am slightly concerned with how easily you will decide to turn on me if that happens, but honestly, if I hurt him, you have full permission to put me back in my place. Using non-lethal methods, preferably." 

The knights brightened. Gwaine clapped his hands.

"Non-lethal methods it is! Hey, Derek, did you say you had been researching non-lethal poisons lately? Do you think -"

Arthur fled the armoury.

  
"I've heard you have officially started courting my ward, sire," said Gaius, and Arthur jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around and spotting the old physician standing in the corner that he could have sworn was empty only moments ago. He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, and did his best to don a dignified expression.

"I have," he said. Gaius' famous eyebrow stared him down.

"Pardon me, sire, but may I ask what your intentions are with Merlin?" 

Narrowing his eyes, Arthur looks at Gaius. "Are you ... are you giving me the if-you-hurt-him-I-will-not-hesitate talk? Because the knights have already done that." 

Gaius paused, looking somewhat pleased. "Ah. So they have. Nevertheless - your intentions?" He looked almost apologetic. "You must understand, Merlin is like a son to me, and though I have watched you grow from a child into a fine young man, I do worry sometimes -" 

Shaking his head, Arthur sighed. 

"My intentions are completely honourable," he clarified. He didn't say more, because he had the feeling that if he tried to expand on what those "honourable intentions" were, he would end up saying something sappy and romantic and sentimental and Gaius would never let him live it down. 

Gaius looked at him for a few long moments, his gaze scrutinising, and then seemed satisfied with what he found, because he nodded and stepped back. Arthur shuffled on the spot for a second, and then muttered something about the knights and left, squirming uncomfortably.

  
Arthur walked out of the throne room after a particularly long and dreary council session and almost collided with Hunith. He recognised her immediately, and blanked. 

"Hunith," he said, as regally as possible. "What brings you to Camelot? Uh - Ealdor hasn't been under attack again, by any chance, has it?" 

"No, no," assured Hunith, smiling brightly. She led him towards one of the more deserted areas of the corridor, and Arthur followed. "I just heard that you were courting my son, and I had to come in person." 

_Ah._

Word sure travelled fast, Arthur thought absently. He tuned back in to what Hunith was saying. 

"- really too innocent for his age, and pardon me for saying this, but you probably have more experience with these things and I just worry sometimes about Merlin, and I understand that you are the king, but this is a mother's issue, you see, and I really will have no qualms about defending my son if you hurt him -" 

Arthur blinked, losing his train of thought. 

"You're giving me the ... the Merlin talk too?" he said slowly, and Hunith stopped. 

"Too?" she questioned. 

Arthur floundered. "Um. The knights kidnapped me and basically threatened to mutiny if I mistreated Merlin. Gaius gave me the talk afterwards. And now, you ..." 

"Oh," Hunith said brightly. "Well. In that case, I think I don't need to say anymore. Please take good care of my son!" 

  
Arthur dozed off in his chambers, opened his eyes, and looked into the eyes of a bloody great golden dragon, and screamed.

_What the fuck what the fuck whatthefuck -_

"I killed you," he yelped, fumbling at his sword - which wasn't there, because he was still wearing the nightclothes he wore when he went to bed. This was a dream, he reminded himself. 

It didn't seem like a dream. The dragon huffed, twin coils of smoke drifting up from its nostrils, and _smiled_. 

It was terrifying.

"The two halves have become a whole," it said, its voice gravelly and ancient. Arthur gaped.

"What -" 

Ignoring his blustering, the dragon went on. 

"You have begun courting Merlin, I see," it said, and lord help him, Arthur was going be given _the talk_ by a dragon - "I predicted this, if I do say so myself."

"You -?" 

"Merlin is quite a handful. I hope you know what you're signing up for." 

Momentarily insulted, Arthur forgot that fact that he was talking to a dead dragon in a dream. "I signed up for _Merlin_ , and I signed up willingly -" 

"However, he is very important to the destiny of you both and also to the destiny and wellbeing of the entirety of Albion and the world in general, so I will consider it a personal insult if you hurt him in any way -" 

Arthur was getting the talk from a dragon. 

He woke up a few hours later in cold sweat, stared at the ceiling blankly, and wondered vaguely if he had accidentally eaten the wrong kind of mushroom for dinner. 

When Arthur had overheard his knights talking about doubling the Merlin Rota, he didn't they they were actually being serious. 

"Don't you have anything else to do?" he grouched, and the four guards surrounding Merlin smiled innocently. Merlin squirmed uncomfortably, looking tiny in the midst of the tall, armoured, muscular guards. Arthur fought a grin. 

"There's no such thing as privacy anymore," he complained to Arthur, as he sat down in his bedchambers and began picking at Arthur's lunch. Arthur frowned, and turned to look at the guard who was standing silently by the door. 

"They never came _inside_ the room before," he agreed glumly. Merlin pouted, and snagged an entire batch of grapes off his plate. Arthur let him. 

It wasn't like Arthur was ungrateful. He appreciated that his guards were just trying to keep them (or rather, Merlin) safe, and he admired their dedication. Frankly, it did put his mind at ease when he watched Merlin lugging a large bag out towards the forest for Gaius's herb-collecting errands, with at least six guards trailing after him. (He got captured and kidnapped in the woods far too often for Arthur's liking.)

But it also meant that they were watched every second of the day, and Arthur missed those quiet moments in his chambers when it was just him and Merlin and that deep, comforting silence between them. It wasn't like he could just approach his manservant and do court-ly things with him with a guard or two in the room, watching their every move. 

"Give us ten minutes together, alone," he said to the guard in his room, letting a little bit of his kingly demanding tone seep into his voice. The guard stood his ground and pretended not to hear him. 

"Five minutes?" said Arthur, deflating. The guard looked at him apologetically, and did not move. 

" _Two_ minutes." 

Still the guard stayed stubbornly where he was, and Arthur barely refrained from taking the nearest pillow and throwing it at a wall. Merlin wilted, and shot him a longing look as he gathered up Arthur's laundry and left the room. Arthur turned to the guard again. 

"I don't get it. You know I'm perfectly capable of defending Merlin and myself, you don't need to be in the room all the time. Why do you insist on staying?" 

_I can't even touch him without feeling embarrassed because you're watching_ , a part of him added petulantly. The guard rubbed his chin awkwardly. 

"Well," he started, then cleared his throat a few times. "We just ... um ... wanted to make sure that ... Merlin was willing." 

Arthur's mind faltered. "That he was what?" 

"It's happened before, sire," the guard hurried. "Nobles often liked to force themselves upon the servants of their liking, and because of their difference in status, the servants would be unable to resist - not that we don't trust you, sire, I'm sure that you are a very honourable and chivalrous man, but we were just ... making sure." 

Arthur stared blankly at him for a few long seconds, before he processed what was said and his blood started to boil.

"Nobles have _what_?" he hissed furiously, then he blinked. "Wait. You were worried that _I_ -?" 

The guard squirmed uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, sire," he mumbled. "We were just ... I mean, Merlin's so _tiny_ , and you're the King, and, well, we were worried ..." 

Horrified, Arthur gaped at him. 

" _No_ ," he choked out finally, when he could form words. "No, gods, I would never - I couldn't. Besides," he added, smiling slightly, "Merlin was the one who confessed. Everything I do, he has allowed me to do. I won't do anything without his consent." 

Looking relieved, the guard grinned awkwardly. 

"My apologies, then, sire. It's just that Merlin ... well. Merlin." 

He said the name like it explained everything, and Arthur honestly couldn't say that he didn't understand. He stood up straighter, clapping the guard on the shoulder. 

"I admire your tenacity," he said. "Now - about these nobles - do you have any names? I think I have some _very_ thinly veiled threats to be sending." 

  
It was a wonder, Arthur thought, how he didn't notice what the guards were doing. They hadn't been exactly subtle. 

Lord Something-or-other was visiting Camelot, which Arthur agreed to only for the sake of the trade benefits, and he was exactly the kind of person he hated, with a long history of ordering unwilling servants into bed and punishing those who did not. Arthur watched in grim satisfaction as the guards glowered darkly every time the man walked past, holding increasingly larger and more threatening-looking weapons each day until on the last day of the Lord's visit, the guards were struggling to hold aloft a ten-foot-tall, deadly-looking spear with at least eight different blades.

Thankfully, Lord Something-or-other took the hint and left as quickly as possible, avoiding Camelot's servants like the plague. 

"Do you always do this?" Arthur asked under his breath, watching as the Lord scrambled onto his horse. The guard next to him grinned. 

"Aye, my lord, whenever they deserve it." 

Nodding, Arthur patted the guard on the back. "Good man." 

Arthur buried his face in his hands as Merlin started to laugh.

"Do something about them," he begged. "I don't think I can take it anymore." 

The stablehands looked at him innocently, holding two horses. 

"Sire, we readied your horses, just as you said." 

The horses in question looked just as confused as Arthur. Their bridles were blindingly colourful, with flowers and wild blossoms of all kinds woven into the leather, and an entire bouquet of roses were sticking out of the saddlebags. Any bits of leather that weren't covered in flowers were braided with brightly coloured ribbons, fluttering in the breeze. 

"Readied the horses for a _hunt_ ," Arthur stressed. "A hunt! Not for a - a honeymoon picnic, or whatever that is!" 

One of the younger stablehands couldn't hide his laughter anymore, and snorted, covering his mouth with his hands and hiding behind one of the elaborately decorated horses. 

"They do look lovely, though," said Merlin teasingly. He plucked a small blue cornflower from the reins, and tucked it into the neck of Arthur's tunic, stepping back to admire his work. The stablehands started cooing, and Arthur fought valiantly to keep the blush off his face. 

In the end, Arthur relented, and the horses still had forget-me-nots and wild roses dangling off their bridles as they rode towards the forest. (He kept the cornflower, placing it in a water vase in his chambers when they came back home. Merlin brightened at the sight of it, sending him one of those sappy, adorable smiles that made him melt.)

Arthur came to the realisation that at this point, he was full-on courting Merlin, and part of him was horrified at how sentimental he had become, and the other half just didn't care. 

During one of the jousting tournaments later that month, Merlin had given him a favour. He had simply taken off his neckerchief, and tied the red fabric to his arm after buckling up the last pieces of armour, and smiled brightly at him. 

"So you don't fall off your horse and knock yourself out," he had said in explanation, and Arthur tried vainly to keep his thoughts straight. He sighed, leaning forward and lightly bumped their foreheads together.

"I'll have you know I'm the greatest warrior in all of Camelot," he replied, and Merlin huffed, shoving him out of the tent.

(He won.)

  
It only dawned on him how obvious he was being when Lord Alexander approached him after the match, still sweaty and armoured up. 

"I see you've started properly courting him," he said, after congratulating Arthur on his victory. Arthur gaped at him. 

"How -?" 

Lord Alexander grinned. "Your favour," he nodded at the red fabric still fluttering lightly at Arthur's elbow. "It's Merlin's, isn't it? I recognised it." 

Right. Arthur had almost forgotten those torturous days when Lord Alexander was visiting, hanging out with his servant and taking up all of his time. It had turned out that he and Merlin still wrote letters to each other, which Arthur did his best not to be annoyed about. Merlin had hundreds of friends, and it would be silly if Arthur decided to be jealous of them all. 

"Also," Alexander continued, "Merlin was blowing kisses at you after you finished. That kind of gave it away." 

Oh. 

"He was what?" squeaked Arthur, going red. Alexander laughed and slapped him on the back.

"I don't think many people saw, don't worry. Even if they did, I'm very certain that your entire kingdom knows anyway." 

Well. He couldn't really argue with that. 

"I'm having words with him later," Arthur mumbled. Sympathetically, Alexander patted him on the arm.

"You're lucky to have each other," he said simply. "Take care, your Highness." 

Merlin's birthday was approaching and Arthur was starting to panic. 

"I don't know what he likes," he confided to Gwen desperately, in the laundry room. "I've tried asking Gaius, and the knights, and everyone he knows - they just talk about _me_ , what is that supposed to mean?" 

Gwen hummed thoughtfully, sorting the clothes into piles. "They probably meant that Merlin just enjoys being around you. The fact that you're here and safe is enough to make him happy." 

_That's both ridiculously sweet and annoying at the same time_. Arthur deflated. 

"But I want to do something for him," he said pitifully. "He's done so much. I'm the king, I could literally grant him anything, but he won't tell me what he likes, I don't know what to get him -" 

Gwen laid a hand on his shoulder and stopped his rambling. 

"It's the sentiment that counts," she advised. "Merlin doesn't really dislike anything. If it's from you, even a pretty rock will make him happy. Maybe something he can use? Something he can keep with him, something that'll remind him of you?" 

Arthur nodded morosely, watching as a handful of maids sit in the corner, polishing jewellery, and then something clicked. 

  
When Arthur told the maidservants about his plan, they burst into tears. 

Baffled, Arthur gaped at them, hurriedly trying to calm them down before someone saw and got the wrong impression. He didn't do anything! He just asked about jewellery! It had been a completely innocent question. 

One of the maids sniffled loudly and wiped her eyes.

"Your Highness," she sobbed, "that is just so _sweet_." 

Arthur froze. 

_Oh, so this was what it was about._

"Of course we'll help, sire," another maid wept. "That's - that is _so_ _sweet_. Merlin will be so happy!" 

"We'll help you find the best gift," the third maidservant promised, her eyes glittering. Arthur shifted in embarrassment, but nodded anyway. 

"So," he started eventually, "Guinevere said I should probably give him something simple -" 

Merlin looked at the small brooch sitting on the table, then up at Arthur, then back at the brooch again. His jaw fell open. 

"You - wait. You did - what?" 

Raising an eyebrow, Arthur gestured for him to take a seat. 

"It's your birthday. Getting presents is typically a part of a birthday experience." 

Arthur decided not to mention the numerous days he spent fretting to Gwen and Gaius and the knights about the stress of finding Merlin the perfect gift. Merlin somehow seemed to read his mind, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. 

"How long did it take for you to decide?" he said teasingly, and Arthur grumbled something under his breath and yanked him down into the chair. 

"Just shut up and take it." 

Merlin sat down, picking up the brooch and turning it over in his hands. The maidservants had talked his ear off about the different jewellery trends, and different metals and colours and their meanings, and a hundred other things that showed Arthur that there was a lot more to jewellery and trinkets than he initially thought, before directing him to a jewellery smith on the outskirts of the lower town. Arthur had spent nearly an entire day there, discussing different designs and materials, but he had learned quite a lot, so he considered it a useful experience. 

In the end, he had settled on something simple, like Gwen had suggested. Merlin never did care much for fancy decorations and finery, if the state of his clothes was anything to go by, and Arthur wanted to avoid the awkward questions that would arise from a servant having a delicately crafted piece of jewellery. The outer surface of the brooch was decorated with a simple but pretty woven pattern, but there was a small clasp on the side of it, and it opened like a locket. 

"Open it," Arthur prompted. Merlin fumbled with the latch for a few seconds, then managed to get it open. His eyes widened. 

"Oh," he said breathlessly. 

There was a small dragon, not unsimilar to the one on the Pendragon crest, carved into the inside of the brooch, inlaid with gold. It wasn't very detailed, as small as it was, but the curve of the dragon's wings were immaculate, as was the arch of its neck and the loop of its tail. Arthur had worried at first that it was too grand, but the soft, delighted expression that dawned on Merlin's face ended up making him forget all his worries.

"Oh, _Arthur_ ," he said, looking up at him tearfully and good lord, he wasn't going to cry, was he? "This - it's _beautiful_." 

Feeling the tell-tale heat of a blush starting to climb up his neck, Arthur turned away slightly. "I'm glad," he said simply. "You like it, then?" 

Merlin nodded enthusiastically, cradling the small brooch in his hands. "I love it," he said softly. "Thank you - you really didn't have to, I mean -" 

"I wanted to," said Arthur, and Merlin goes bright red and the sight makes something warm and happy bubble up inside him.

Merlin took to wearing it everywhere he went. He kept it closed, in public, but Arthur had often found Merlin lying on his bed or sitting in random corners of the castle and gazing at the golden dragon fondly. 

It made Arthur ridiculously happy.

The seamstresses in the castle were starting to whisper and giggle every time Arthur walked past them. He had no idea why, and it was starting to make him anxious. 

"I feel like my entire castle is plotting something," he grumbled to Leon during training, and the First Knight made a funny noise that sounded like something between a snort and a cough. Arthur eyed him suspiciously.

"... do you know something about what's going on?" 

"Of course not, sire," said Leon promptly. 

Sighing, Arthur returned to swinging his practice sword at the straw dummies on the field. It didn't seem to be harmful, and it didn't seem like an evil sorcerer's enchantment or anything, so he supposed there was no use in stressing about it. 

The people of Camelot had by now grown used to the fact that Arthur was courting Merlin. It was a little odd, going for walks in the lower town and having at least seven different old ladies giving him flowers and trinkets to "give to your Merlin". The cooks had started doubling the portions of the meals they sent up to his chambers because it had _somehow_ become common knowledge that Merlin basically dined with the king. Even the nobles and the advisers on the Council had stopped batting an eye every time Merlin interrupted the meeting with one of his own suggestions, because they knew that Arthur would listen to his opinion and besides, Merlin had somehow evolved into an honorary Council member through the years, representing the common people's views since the nobles often forgot about them.

"You don't happen to know anything about why the seamstresses keep giggling around me, do you?" he asked Merlin later. Merlin smile froze momentarily, then he laughed awkwardly and started babbling about horses. 

Arthur took that as a yes. 

Several days later, Merlin stumbled into his bedchambers in the morning, very obviously hiding something behind his back. Arthur raised an eyebrow. 

"You're unusually late," he noted. He pretended not to see the three guards outside his door peeking in, eager to see what was happening.

Face slightly red, Merlin huffed. "I have something for you," he said instead. Arthur watched as Merlin fidgeted for a few seconds, avoiding his eyes, and then hastily took a package out from behind his back, depositing it in front of him. 

"I made it," he said. "So you're not allowed to be mean about it." 

His curiosity piqued, Arthur reached for the package. 

"You made something?" he joked as he unwrapped it. "Funny, I thought you weren't capable of making anything other than messes -" 

A bundle of richly coloured, deep red fabric spilled out over his hands, and he fell silent.

Huh. 

It was a cloak - and a beautiful one at that. Arthur held it out in front of him, and silently admired the colours, the stitching that lined the edges of the fabric, gold and silver thread twisting themselves into patterns and pictures with an attention to detail that he'd rarely seen. On one shoulder, the Pendragon crest stood out from the dark fabric surrounding it. Even the scales and claws of the dragon were stitched into it, minute threads forming the tiny features. The dragon almost seemed alive, glittering under the sun that spilled in from his window. 

He stared at Merlin. "You made this?" 

Blushing, Merlin shuffled awkwardly on the spot. 

"I asked the castle seamstresses for help," he said. "It did sort of take ages. They showed me how to do the small things, and I asked around the lower town for good ways to make cloaks. They were very supportive! Oh, and I ended up asking the knights about ... cloak stuff. Different shapes of cloaks were more suited to fighting than others, apparently." 

So that was why all the castle seemed to know something that Arthur didn't. Now it made sense why all the seamstresses gossiped and giggled whenever he came near. 

Wordlessly, Arthur looked back at the cloak, running the soft fabric through his hands. 

"You never fail to surprise me, sometimes," Arthur said eventually, and Merlin went even redder at the unhidden fondness in his voice. From the door, the guards started dramatically clutching at their hearts and wiping away invisible tears. 

"I guess you like it?" 

Arthur grinned, standing up and swinging the cloak over his shoulders, letting it settle against his body. It fit perfectly. Turning to the guards at his door, he spread his arms.

"What do you think?" he asked brightly.

The guards gave him a thumbs-up. 

"You look dashing, my lord," one of them said seriously. "With a cloak like that, you could simply woo our enemies into submission." 

"Fit for a king," said another proudly, slapping Merlin so hard on the back he almost tripped. 

"I have been looking forward to this moment ever since Merlin came and asked us about cloaks," the third one said tearfully. Arthur laughed, and tugged Merlin towards him, brushing a light kiss over his forehead. 

"Thank you," he said sincerely, and Merlin huffed and buried his face in Arthur's shoulder as the guards fell over each other in excitement.

Later that night, when he was alone in his chambers, Arthur found another small detail in the cloak that he had missed before. On the inside of the cloak, near the hem, Merlin had stitched in a little message in blue thread. 

USE THIS AND DON'T GET A COLD. YOU'RE A NIGHTMARE TO DEAL WITH WHEN YOU'RE SICK. LOVE, M

The small, sweet message made him laugh by himself in his chambers at some ungodly hour in the morning.

  
He ended up wearing the cloak frequently, even to meetings with foreign nobles and visiting lords. The first time the castle seamstresses had seen him walking through the courtyard in it, they had burst into tears again. (Arthur fought very hard to keep a straight face, but he couldn't help the small smile that slipped through. It hadn't escaped his notice, the fact that ever since Merlin had come crashing into his life, the atmosphere around Camelot castle had changed ever so slightly. Before, Arthur hadn't taken much notice of the servants, and cared little about the guards, because for all he knew, they were simply there for the sole purpose of serving him. His father's dismissal of the lower classes had only encouraged him to continue to do so. Now, though, the multitudes of people who bustled around the castle every day almost felt like family.)

BONUS: 

"You should have seen Merlin when he was trying to decide what to write on the cloak," one of the seamstresses whispered to Arthur, beaming. "He couldn't decide for a whole four hours whether or not to write "Love" at the end!" 

"I remember what it was like to fall in love," another said dreamily, cupping her face in her hands. "Ah, youth ..." 

"Treasure it, my lord," the tailor said firmly to Arthur. "Both of you are more lucky than you know, to have each other." 

Arthur nodded solemnly. "Believe me," he said fondly. "I know." 

**Author's Note:**

> I am having so much fun writing this series lol   
> Hope you enjoyed reading this! The next instalment of this series will be out next week!


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